


I Get Left Behind (In The Days)

by eatramyeon



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, daddy!yongguk, domestic au(?), himchan is just himchan lmao, idk tbh, if you expect romance then boy you are wrong, kid!zelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatramyeon/pseuds/eatramyeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yongguk's a little slow,</p><p>(and the people he loves move forward a bit too quickly)</p><p>so he gets left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Left Behind (In The Days)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long one imo so enjoy! (I also haven't written for so long ashgdasd)
> 
> You can also find this on AFF : http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1142702

“Junhong’s sick.” She had said, a hand rubbing her forehead. Her vacant eyes staring emptily into the small kitchen in the corner of the small flat. The back of her hand, once smooth, once soft, was decorated with veins protruding from the white skin; the hard work in the small home with a little crying boy showed there around her skinny, bony fingers.

Yongguk looked at her; unkempt hair, dark circles and frowning lips. His body ached. He had slept standing among the people in the train home after work, and he barely woke up for his stop, and Junhong was crying the walls of the small flat were shaking. Yongguk’s mind felt the tremor too – but what more than she did? – he realized, as she shut her red rimmed, swollen eyes tightly.

Did she cry?

“I’ll take him to the clinic.” He muttered, worried, and she nodded silently, eyes still so tightly closed, her lips sealed. And Yongguk stole a glance at her as he dropped his briefcase, walking to his crying son on the floor.

He heard a sniffle behind him as he shushed the crying baby in the cradle, picking his son up with careful hands and trying so hard to ignore the thumping headache in his head after a long, long day of work. The crying was deafening, Junhong’s face was red, little slits of eyes closed with agony.

He pressed his big hand against the small, damp head, the heat seeping through his palm almost immediately.

“You’re burning.” The father whispered, heart dropping because it was late. He worked overtime, clients were losing their mind and so was Yongguk and was there even a clinic that was still open?

The running thoughts in his head were interrupted when Junhong screamed, small hands and small fists clenched in the air, tears soaking his newborn face.

When Yongguk turned, shushing his son, his wife was looking at them, arms crossed, the old white cardigan that was once new, all crinkled, her hair tied into a messy ponytail, fine hairs flying in all directions around her once beaming, youthful face and a small towel draped on her small bony shoulder.

Yongguk looked at her, cradling the baby in his two arms, the heat from the small body against his body, the cry so loud. Junhong, Yongguk’s tiny, tiny boy so sad and so sick.

His wife was twenty one, but Junhong took years out of her for one year of his life and she seemed worn out in the small dimly lit flat.

“I’m taking him to the clinic a few blocks away.” Yongguk said, swallowing a lump in his throat, trying not to wince at the loud cry Junhong gave out again, but she did. And she was so pale, sickly pale.

She nodded, looking away.

The unwashed dishes were piled in the sink. Yongguk kept on hushing the baby in his arms, the voice ripping out of his son’s throat, Yongguk’s ears pounding. The shoes by the door were scattered all over, the pot on the stove was still filled with leftovers days ago.

Yongguk didn’t look back when he walked out of the flat with Junhong in his arms, the same way he did earlier that morning when Junhong was crying too. And his wife was not talking to him because they fought the night before and never reconciled.

They never did. And maybe Junhong was sick of it, sick of the pair screaming into the night, blames thrown into the air between the two who had once been happy lovers.

A neighbour, a middle aged man was outside when Yongguk closed the door behind him and the man stared at the young father of twenty two, scowling.

Yongguk patted Junhong’s back, staring at the man as he walked slowly and the man glanced at the crying baby.

He bowed, apologizing because throughout the whole building the little family was trouble and had other neighbours screaming at them to tone it down and to get out of the building.

Junhong still cried as he descended the stairs quickly.

He was a bad father. He couldn’t even keep Junhong quiet.

It earned him looks and glances on the street. The cold street in the night was an unfamiliar thing in the twenty two year old Yongguk’s life now. He didn’t know anything other than work early in the morning and the long journey home filled with hastened sleep and hurried way back home because he had a family to feed and take care.

The young people filled the restaurants and bars, a scene that had once been Yongguk’s dream of youth now replaced with the crying baby in his arms.

The clinic was still open, he barely made it. He only managed to get in the waiting list because Junhong was a small baby and sick.

The compact waiting room with white walls reverberated with the cries of baby Junhong, and Yongguk had to apologize over and over again when the other people looked at him. The inside of Yongguk’s head rattled with every noise and he hoped he didn’t seem too miserable in the bright room. He took a seat at the end of the bench provided, an elderly woman scooting two seats away with an agitated look and her face and Yongguk held Junhong tightly, shushing the boy.

His own shushing trembled with the tiny body he held, and he prayed Junhong would calm down.

Junhong went quiet as if he heard his father’s prayers, sniffling, and small mouth gaping for air. Yongguk quickly wiped his runny nose with the blanket he was wrapped with, rocking in his seat and glad he was granted the brief, sweet silence until Junhong screamed and tears were flowing again.

“Don’t cry.” Yongguk shut his eyes tightly, embarrassed, worn out with his tired lips on the boy’s wet hair, cradling him close to his chest.

It felt like eternity before they were finally called to meet the doctor.

The doctor had frowned at the baby boy’s condition.

_He’s underweight, do you realize that?_

Called for a shot and Yongguk heart broke at the cry of pain his son let out when the needle pierced the red heated skin.

He paid with the money he had left in his wallet after, eyes droopy and Junhong quiet in his arm as he tried to balance the weight with a wallet in one hand.

He then stood out there in front of the clinic’s closed door, the lights turning off one by one around him as he kissed his son’s forehead and smiled wistfully at the small pair of eyes shut so softly, lengthy little eyelashes like his mother’s.

The walk home was filled with running thoughts of work, the money for grocery, work tomorrow, how much sleep. Were he and his wife going to fight again once he returned?

No, not tonight, Yongguk thought, not when Junhong was finally soothed.

The corridor to home was dark, a light flickering near the stairs. The door to home was painted pink, color fading, paint peeling.

When Yongguk tried the doorknob it wasn’t locked.

He pushed the door open and the lights were still on. Humming and stuttering confusedly.

He took off his shoes silently, entering the messy home with small dining table, a wilted flower on the counter. Laundry piled in the old basket by the corner near the open door of the small bathroom.

Yongguk walked to the middle, small flat of one room for all, small kitchen and small cramped bathroom.

He looked around the silent home. Windows closed, curtains drawn, lightly patting his baby in his arms.

He looked at the open closet, pulling out his messy unfolded clothes piling in there. The other part of the closet empty, hurriedly emptied.

The dishes lay still in the sink like a silent mountain, the futon on the floor was crumpled and pushed to the side against the wall. The small bottle of milk, half empty stood on the now barren, small dresser, the mirror dusty, never wiped clean for so long.

Yongguk sat in the middle of it all, the mess, the world he had lived in after he left the dreams he had for his future. The only life he had come to know. The only things he had left.

Junhong sighed in his arms.

She left.

Junhong’s mother was gone so swiftly in the night with her bony shoulder, usually draped with damp towel soaked with her son’s tears; now draped over the chair by the dining table, Yongguk realized. Folded so neatly it was apologetic. The laundry basket was brimming, the leftovers in the pot rotting with time. The small, small place they once called home together was only Yongguk and Junhong’s now.

His arms felt a little limp around the sleeping boy. And when he looked down all he saw was the only thing he could hold on to.

The father held the boy tightly in his arms, for all the love he had left in his life was right there cradled against his heart. And all the tears he had left for the bleak present he had to go through flowed for everything that had left him.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now.”

The words crumbled for the doubtful future time held for Bang Yongguk.

“You and me against the world.”

 

 

 

The sound of a lighter flickering fills Yongguk’s ears. The place is so quiet, but there’s soft music playing in the back, the dusty speakers on the walls old and the whole place musty. The sound of the music’s a little muffled, if Yongguk doesn’t listen well he wouldn’t even notice there’s music playing.

The woman with short spiky hair at the counter looks over the object Yongguk has laid on the counter.

“Hm,” She hums, placing her cigarettes between her lips and inhaling. “It’s a nice record you got here. Classic.” She exhales, clouds of smoke floating all over her face.

Yongguk remains quiet.

“I’ll give you a good deal.”

Money is then set on the counter, and Yongguk watches the way she slips the record away from him, watches Coltrane and his saxophone hides under the counter as his fingers start to count the bills in his hands.

The bills are crumpled with age and sticks to his thumb, but they’re what he needed.

He thanks her and makes his way out of the shop, the street busy and people getting off work. He looks at his watch and he’s already late. He can only imagine what he will get once he gets home.

The bus comes late by thirteen minutes, and then offers no seat for the twenty six year old. So he stands with the others and watches as the buildings go by while the bus moves with a little cough.

The corridor to home is bright, the light having been replaced recently. The door to home is painted fading pink, so much of it peeled already.

He inserts his key and as soon as he enters his home he is greeted with a scream.

A welcoming one.

“Daddy!”

He picks the boy who ran to him up, smiling widely. “Hey there little guy, how was school?” He asks, bouncing his son in his arms.

“It was not fun.” Junhong frowns immediately, a paper plane in one hand. “But teacher taught Junnie how to make this!”

Yongguk laughs as Junhong throws the paper plane in to the air, the paper landing onto the floor amidst all the toys the boy has scattered all over the place.

He brushes at his five year old’s hair, smiles at the way Junhong has one missing teeth that fell off when he played soccer at school which ended up with Yongguk picking him up earlier than usual because he couldn’t stop crying.

“You’re late.”

Yongguk stares at the person by the stove.

Kim Himchan, standing with a frying pan in one hand. The smell of his cooking wafts into the air, and Yongguk’s stomach grumbles as he sets Junhong down. Junhong runs to pick up his paper airplane.

“I had things to do. Sorry you had to stay longer than you should.” Yongguk mutters, picking up some toys into his hands and putting it into the box on the dining table where Junhong should have stored his toys in the first place, averting the other’s stare.

When he finally looks up at Himchan, Himchan’s feature softens a little for an unknown thought.

He almost seemed like he has something to say, but Himchan only looks over him for a minute, and then turns away, a smile on his face. Somehow it surprises Yongguk how Himchan accepts it today but not some other days. “It’s okay, I prepared dinner for the two of you meanwhile.”

He brings the frying pan over to the dining table as Yongguk picks the box up and sets it down against the wall.

“Junhong, come on! Have dinner!” Himchan calls, already setting bowls as Yongguk watches, always amazed at his close friend’s swift way of doing things. Dinner’s ready in a second and Yongguk dives into it as soon as he can, feeling hungry and grateful for the delicious meal as Junhong plays with his food, laughing at the way some of his rice sticks to his shirt.

Himchan’s scurrying about, taking his things, phone and keys and checking himself in the mirror while combing his black hair with his fingers. Himchan’s in his work attire, the back of his shirt a little crinkled from leaning in chairs and sleeves rolled up his arms. His black hair’s combed aside neatly, and Yongguk know it stayed that way since morning.

“Hey, you’re not staying for dinner?” Yongguk asks, raising his eyebrows at his friend who seems a little bit too in a hurry to leave. He knows he has been late, but usually Himchan stays for dinner.

“I’ve got plans.” Himchan says, grabbing his coat by the door. A small smile tugs at his lips. “Hey,” He calls when Yongguk becomes preoccupied with telling Junhong he shouldn’t play around with his food.

Yongguk looks up at his friend of the same age at the door.

“Go buy groceries would you. You’re running out of a lot of things.” Himchan puts on his shoes hastily. “Don’t feed Junhong ramen okay?”

“Oooh! Ramen! Daddy can we have ramen today?” Junhong exclaims, pulling on Yongguk’s sleeve repeatedly.

Yongguk shakes his head at his son, telling him to eat properly before turning to Himchan again. “I’ll do that.”

“Goodbye Uncle Himchan!”

Himchan smiles widely, all teeth and prominent dimple under an eye, waves and leaves.

It’s father and son again in the small home.

“Did Himchan pick you up early from school today?” Yongguk asks, scraping the rice in his bowl as Junhong swings his legs under the table, crushing his rice with his plastic spoon.

“He’s always early, daddy.” Junhong blinks at his food and Yongguk takes the spoon in his hand, scooping the food up and Junhong opens his mouth wide, cheeks full with rice immediately after. Yongguk takes his smaller bowl. “But daddy’s always late.”

Yongguk scoffs. “Daddy has to work.”

“But Uncle Himchan says he works too!”

Yongguk blinks at his son. “Well,”

Junhong puts his tongue out. “Daddy’s just boring.”

The boy slips away from the table and his father watches as he picks up his favorite toy that has been placed in the box. It’s a toy his teacher gave him apparently. Junhong came back from school waving it around and screaming excitedly because he got a Pokemon stuffed toy.

Junhong wouldn’t have gotten it if Yongguk hadn’t been so late to pick him up on a Wednesday. The teacher had to sooth the five year old, because daddy was leaving him to live in the kindergarten, but in reality traffic was causing trouble and the train was packed Yongguk had to wait for another one.

All the kids had left by the time Yongguk was there. They left a long time ago and the windows of all the classes were closed already. The teacher almost took Junhong into his car to send him home by himself.

Yongguk apologized profusedly. They went home and Himchan was there with takeouts, waving at the two and nagging how long he had to wait outside. Junhong took all the fried chicken and didn’t manage to finish them when Himchan told Yongguk he could pick Junhong up if Yongguk gets too busy with work.

Himchan pinched Junhong’s cheek telling the boy they would have fun while they wait for Yongguk to come back.

Junhong screamed in delight when tickled on Himchan’s lap, and Yongguk watched with bones of fried chicken in between his fingers, amused.

He gave Himchan the spare key for the house that day.

Himchan, unlike Yongguk, is on time for Junhong.

“Finish your food please, Junhong.” Yongguk calls when Junhong starts to run around the living room with his toy and paper plane. “What did we say about wasting?”

Junhong stops, pouts and comes to Yongguk to earn a spoonful of Himchan’s cooking.

Yongguk knows Junhong wouldn’t have done that if it was Yongguk’s cooking. He once spat out Yongguk’s stew because it tasted yucky. The father had to finish the whole pot of stew by himself because it was bad to let it go to waste. He didn’t feel good the next day at work.

After dinner Yongguk cleans the table, the sleeve of his shirt rolled up his arms. He washes the dishes, humming the music of the record he had let go of that day, and Junhong’s lost in his own adventure in the small house.

He picks the boy up after finishing his chores, Junhong whining and legs kicking the air because he wanted to run. Yongguk laughs and enters the bathroom where they have a warm bath together.

The warm bath has Yongguk fit for sleep, but apparently Junhong’s still energetic as Yongguk waits for him to stop with a damp towel in his hands to ruffle the boy’s hair dry.

“Come on, come here let’s dry your hair first.” Yongguk says slowly, the words felt sluggish out of his mouth, and he knows he really needs to sleep if he wants to work tomorrow.

Junhong giggles when his father couldn’t catch him, sticking himself to the wall and staring at the tired father.

“It’s late, come on.” Yongguk coughs, and gestures for Junhong to come.

Junhong runs but this time Yongguk catches him in his arms and starts to ruffle his hair with the towel as Junhong squeals in protest. Yongguk keeps him in his arms and rolls onto the futon laid down on the floor while Junhong screams he doesn’t want to sleep yet.

Junhong manages to wriggle out of his hold and Yongguk sighs, the boy taking his blue train out of the box to play with.

He watches his son play, calling him to come and sleep but Junhong refuses to listen. It’s a few moments before Yongguk’s eyes close and he drifts off to sleep without him even realizing it.

When he jolts awake gently, the lights are still on but Junhong’s snug in his arms. The soft jazz music he had let go of plays softly in his head, as if a dream, and it has been one for Yongguk. But Yongguk kisses Junhong on the forehead and smells the soap and strawberry shampoo, and that’s his dream fulfilled.

He goes back to sleep with the lights on.

It has been just another day in his hectic life.

 

 

“Daddy! Daddy! Wake up!”

Yongguk wakes up with Junhong bouncing on his back and his body aching, head thumping and breaths warm. His arms feel numb when he tries to move, and his fingers too. Groaning, he rolls onto his back, Junhong slipping onto the floor, patting or rather, hitting his father’s shoulder.

“Daddy, Daddy why are you so lazy today?” Junhong asks as Yongguk shuts his eyes tightly, feeling his eyeballs burn beneath his eyelids and the inside of his mouth is bitter.

“What time is it?” His voice croaks out, squinting an eye open to look at the clock on the wall.

It’s almost noon and he hasn’t showered nor made breakfast, and Junhong isn’t in school.

He curses, immediately shutting his mouth with a hand after.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Junhong starts chanting, standing up in his pajama and hopping.

Yongguk feels like puking and he rushes to the bathroom under the sound of his own son cursing without knowing what it means. All the dinner he has from the night before spills out in gooey disgusting waterfall, and his eyes fill with tears, chest sore from the constricting muscles.

He gargles after, feeling his head pounding and it hurts so much. He has to go to work, Junhong has to go to school. Junhong’s uniform hasn’t been ironed, he needs his breakfast and Yongguk’s whole body aches.

When he comes out of the bathroom Junhong’s standing at the door with his pokemon and blue train in hands, hair messy and he has round eyes trained on his father, blinking.

“Is daddy okay?”

Yongguk nods, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“Daddy can I have pancakes?” Junhong asks, trailing behind Yongguk who shuffles around in the room, taking his shirt and Junhong’s uniform out. He drapes them over the towel rack, feeling the whole floor shifting underneath his feet and the thought of pancakes makes him sick.

When Yongguk attempts for breakfast, he spills the pancake batter and the frying pan falls off the stove onto his toes.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Junhong chants again while Yongguk scrambles for the cloth to wipe the spilt batter on the floor.

“Move, don’t step on the mess, Junhong.” Yongguk grumbles, totally not feeling at his peak today, and Junhong watches him quietly after.

“Is Junnie not going to school today, Daddy?”

Yongguk doesn’t answer.

“Daddy, are you sick?”

Small hand presses against Yongguk’s burning forehead and Junhong hisses, avoiding him immediately.

Yongguk feels his nose running and he wipes at it with his sleeve, rolling his eyes agitatedly. It seems the day’s starting really great for him and he couldn’t find it in him to be patient about everything. The floor’s sticky from the batter and he hates it. He throws the cloth in his hand into the sink angrily, Junhong wincing at the scene. Yongguk slips into his blanket again, shutting his eyes tightly with the heat inside his head.

“Daddy?”

He’s sick and he doesn’t want to do anything because everything aches, but there’s so much to do.

He hears Junhong sitting beside him on the floor, setting his blue train down carefully.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Yongguk’s hungry too, but he feels like dying.

 

 

 

“Bang Yongguk!”

Yongguk wakes up after what felt like an eternity of madness and sickness.

The owner of the voice, none other than Kim Himchan has arrived.

“Uncle Himchan!” Junhong, who has been singing and chanting nursery rhymes to himself when Yongguk didn’t respond to him, jumps to his feet and runs to the man closing the door. There's a sound of Himchan's strained groan. Junhong must have climbed onto him or something.

“Is your daddy okay, Junnie?”

Yongguk says nothing, keeping his eyes shut. Because maybe if he tunes out the loud pair in the small house it will keep the pounding in his head away.

“Daddy’s burning!” the five year old squeaks. “Daddy wasted pancake water!”

The father hears his friend gasping almost dramatically. There’s a rustle of plastic.

“The pancake batter I made?”

He assumes Junhong nods enthusiastically.

“Daddy’s so lazy he doesn’t want to go to work and send Junhong to school.”

“Oh, no, you’re skipping school already?”

He hears footsteps through the floor. If he has a bed he wouldn’t have to deal with the heavy footsteps echoing into his skull and the smaller footsteps jabbing into his head.

“Oh god, Yongguk this house is a mess.”

Water runs in the sink.

“Uncle Himchan, I’m hungry. Daddy didn’t want to give Junong anything to eat, I’m going to die uncle Himchan!”

“Have you eaten at all today?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well looks like I’m just in time to save you, little Junnie. Okay sit down, I’ll make something for you.”

Yongguk almost drifts off to sleep again at the soft sound of something cooking on the stove, and he thinks he smells the nice scent of cooking chicken.

He hears soft chatter between the adult and the boy in the room, Junhong now less loud than before, probably eating.

“Can I trust you to wash yourself while I go check on your daddy?”

Then Yongguk feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Bbang, are you okay?”

There’s a hand that softly presses against his forehead. Yongguk opens his eyes, groaning.

“Why didn’t you tell me you fell sick?” Himchan mutters worriedly, Yongguk sitting up carefully, finding his friend staring at him with concern.

“Ugh, I can barely move this morning.” Yongguk rubs at his eyes, glancing at the clock and it’s 3 in the afternoon. Junhong was right when he said he could die from hunger because Yongguk feels his empty stomach dying inside too.

“I called you when Youngjae told me you didn’t show up for work.”

Yongguk looks at his phone beside his pillow. Presses the button and it does not light up. It’s out of battery.

Himchan sighs.

“If I didn’t come would you two have starved to death?” Himchan mutters, standing up and walking to the pot on the stove.

Yongguk blinks tiredly while Himchan takes a bowl and fills it with porridge that apparently he had made. Himchan hands it to him silently and promptly running into the bathroom when there’s a sound of something dropping in there.

Junhong’s laughter echoes into the room, and Himchan nags worriedly for Junhong to be careful in the bathroom because it’s slippery.

The porridge is warm, and soothes Yongguk’s sore throat. He feels the warmth moving down in him, and wonders how Himchan made the porridge so good. Last time Yongguk attempted to make porridge he was left with soupy rice. It was horrifying, the feeling of drinking in rice instead of eating it.

The shower in the bathroom stops, and Himchan sings along with Junhong to his nursery rhyme that he learned a few days ago.

Yongguk’s sick of it. Sick to the stomach and can’t even bear it now that he’s literally sick.

He eats, still in his blanket while Junhong comes out with Himchan, hair wet. His attempt to dry Junhong's hair has the boy toppling him over -- "Horsey!" Junhong exclaims-- and Himchan laughs. Himchan scurries around, searching for some clean clothes for Junhong, preoccupied. It seems like Himchan’s busy with Junhong more than usual. He’s a concerned friend for the young single father, and now that Yongguk’s sick Himchan’s leaving him alone and is attending to the five year old by himself.

They were friends since school. Shares interest in music. Himchan’s a loud guy with bright smile, Yongguk’s the total opposite – and apparently to Himchan Yongguk has a brighter smile but Yongguk thought otherwise. And when Yongguk laughed out loud at Himchan’s stupid joke back in school Himchan was amazed and started collecting stupid jokes to tell the other boy.

Yongguk knew what he was up to. He was that one people person who wanted to include the quiet classmate in everything they do. It was a kind gesture, but Yongguk seriously couldn’t care less.

He had dreams for music. And music isn’t really written with friends when it’s about your thoughts.

Yongguk didn’t think, and still doesn’t think, that two person can share the same thoughts and feelings.

Everyone’s a different individual, and Himchan’s a strange one.

Refusing to give up on befriending the unfriendly Yongguk. Refusing to stop with his stupid jokes. Refusing to let Yongguk’s occasional cold attitude towards him when he got a little too noisy for the other’s liking get to him. In other words, Himchan stuck to him like a gum on the sole of a shoe. Yongguk scraped them against the cement but Himchan’s a high quality gum.

Himchan was the first person Yongguk met when he found out that he liked a girl so much he was convinced she was his soulmate.

And it had been an unconscious decision, he just found himself going to Himchan, and telling him all of it. Back in his bed on the same night he thought of Himchan and thought of him as the closest friend he could ever get.

Himchan, albeit different, seems to be the pairing for Yongguk’s puzzle. And Yongguk thought the other puzzle pairing next to him was the woman he had loved. His life had been a complete picture once.

She was with Yongguk through tough times, the silly exams in school, the silly rebellious period everyone goes through once in their life.

They loved and laughed, and one day she came to Yongguk at the age of nineteen with a hand on her stomach and a hopeful smile on her lips.

Yongguk cried with her in his arms.

It wasn’t much of the apprehension building up on him but it was the hopeful thoughts that bloomed like little buds of cherryblossoms in the coming spring.

They confronted each other’s parents, and it was apparently unconventional in such a society to be so in love like the two, that they wanted already to start a family at such age. Apparently Junhong arrived too soon for them. Their parents had different plans, but they couldn’t accept it. Why plan for others when they could do it themselves?

When she cried on the park bench near her house Yongguk told her all she would ever need was him and their child, and she told him that was what mattered after all.

Yongguk went to Himchan and told him he’s having a child.

Himchan had sparkling eyes, and Yongguk thought he was wrong when he thought two people could never share the same thoughts and feelings. Because Himchan said he was as ecstatic as Yongguk was and told him the baby was a blessing.

When his parents refused to acknowledge all his happiness, Yongguk found his wife’s and Himchan’s were enough.

And he left the two people who raised him, though it stabbed at his heart so excruciatingly for him to do so, he had been firm and sure. He left the old wrinkly frown of an old father of many years, and the dry hands of an old mother with years of house chores.

It just somehow came to be so ironic that he left the pair who raised him well all his life to raise one of his own.

He silenced his heart that hurt immensely to leave the old couple in the house he wouldn’t be able to call home again. Leave the early morning newspapers with a cup of coffee on the table and the soft humming of the wonderful woman with cooking breakfast.

He halted his studies. He got a job, and a beautiful baby boy in fall.

The falling leaves in the grey sky were nothing but a blessing in Yongguk’s eyes.

The young pair of father and mother lived in a small house they rented with the money they saved up themselves, and Yongguk thought that was all he needed in his life.

But he was late to realize how much she suffered, it seems.

As much as he lost for what he gained, she did too.

Yongguk feels like he’s slow in everything.

“Are you finished with your food, Yongguk?” Himchan asks after slipping the shirt on Junhong who immediately went to pick up his toys.

Yongguk looks down at his bowl, and he’s too slow in eating too.

Maybe if he had been a little faster, maybe if he had run a little quicker. Maybe if he had held Junhong down firmer on the doctor’s bed when he was given the shot in the clinic they would arrive home just in time to let the mother of his child stay.

The thoughts of the past have its way of coming back to him and he hates it when it happens. It’s sickening, and it hurts.

“I can get you some panadols if you want, I’ll just leave you two here while I go out.” Himchan mutters, ruffling Junhong’s hair when he walks past the boy assembling his little league of toys on the floor.

Yongguk finishes his food, but he feels like vomiting them out already.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

Himchan glances at him, and Yongguk noticed the bags next to the stove filled with groceries. “I don’t have anymore classes to teach today.”

Himchan’s a teacher at a high school in town, who reputedly is loved by a lot of his students for not just being handsome, but also kind to all of them.

Yongguk thinks he’s seen some love letters from his students jutting out of his bag once when the students were graduating.

“Why did you buy the groceries?” Yongguk asks.

“I knew you wouldn’t do it anytime soon, which means you’ll be living on instant noodles.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Hey, it’s not for you, I just want the kid to eat healthy.” Himchan snickers, and Junhong’s ears perk up, standing up on his tiptoes as he watches Himchan unpacks the things he bought. He holds onto the kitchen counter with both hands.

“Did you buy me chocolates Uncle Himchan?” Junhong steps a little to the left and right, keeping his balance on his toes.

Yongguk sighs. “Come here Junnie, stop asking for chocolate from Himchan.”

Junhong looks at him. “But Daddy—”

Yongguk gives the boy a look and Junhong pouts. He gestures for the boy to come but Junhong holds his pokemon tighter to his chest.

“Daddy is stinky, Daddy hasn’t showered.”

Himchan laughs as he places the veggies into the fridge and Yongguk sighs, amusedly.

“Come here before I catch you.”

Junhong giggles, running to Yongguk anyway and Yongguk kisses his head, smelling like fresh strawberries again.

“Ew, Daddy’s really stinky.” The boy squeaks in his tight arms, small pair of legs curled against Yongguk.

“Get away from him, Junhong. He’s sick and you might catch it.”

This time Yongguk gives Himchan a look and Himchan shakes his head, taking Junhong’s hand to take him away from the unwell man, running his fingers through Junhong’s now messy hair from Yongguk’s affection.

Yongguk stands, places his bowl into the sink and heads for the shower. In the shower he listens to the murmurs from outside. His friend talking to Junhong like he’s a child himself, and Junhong laughs, truly a five year old.

When he gets out he tells Himchan he could go get himself his own meds, and asks for him to stay with Junhong meanwhile.

Himchan looks at him like he has some other thoughts in mind, but says that he will take Junhong downstairs to play while they wait for him to come back. And be careful. I plugged your phone and it has some juice now.

Yongguk walks out of the home and leaves Junhong’s excited chatters behind. He feels his head clearing in the open air now, with nothing making it thumps harder.

The porridge he has consumed seems to have made him fit for walking, and he feels better than when his stomach was empty. Thank god Himchan came just in time to feed the starving pair.

Sometimes, it feels like Yongguk and Junhong aren’t much different. They’re taken care of by a single man, who goes by the name of Kim Himchan, with all the meaning of strength in his name. Yongguk feels sorry that he sometimes depends too much on his friend, but his life consists of only work, Junhong and his small home, and it’s a little too much to handle at times.

Himchan’s a pillar, Yongguk thinks. He doesn’t think he could do much without Himchan. Take today as example.

He can barely function when he gets a little discouraged and disheartened, but Himchan’s offers support that Yongguk realizes he needs more than ever since Junhong’s mother left.

The pharmacy is empty when he visits it. There are no other customers and he buys some pills for his headaches and his flu. The cashier offers him a tissue when he sneezes non stop, and Yongguk wonders why Himchan didn’t remind him to bring some tissues along with him.

 

 

The playground near home is filled with other kids in the afternoon. Junhong was on the swing when Yongguk arrived, having Himchan leads the boy to his father.

“That took longer than I expected.” Himchan says, eyeing the bag of meds Yongguk carries in his hand.

“Daddy just walks slowly.” Junhong answers instead, and Yongguk ruffles his head a little rougher than usual, Junhong whining.

“I have to go now.” Himchan looks at his watch. Yongguk wonders why Himchan seems to have plans all the time now.

“Won’t you stay for dinner?” Junhong tugs at Himchan’s sleeve, and Himchan looks down at the boy, bending on his knees.

“I’ll stay for dinner tomorrow okay?” Himchan leans to kiss his cheek but Junhong slyly moves away and Himchan laughs. Yongguk smiles.

They wave goodbye to Himchan and Yongguk tugs at Junhong’s hand. Junhong says he wants to stay and play longer, but Yongguk feels his headache returning and insists they go home. Junhong scowls up the stairs to home, the sun preparing to set.

When they sit to have dinner, which is Himchan’s leftover porridge Yongguk reads a text he receives from his friend. Himchan said he would come by tomorrow morning to pick Junhong up for school, considering Yongguk is sick. He reminds Yongguk to tell his boss that he wouldn’t make it tomorrow.

Yongguk thinks he would get better by tomorrow but Himchan thinks otherwise. Yongguk’s stubborn but Himchan can be firm. So Yongguk resigns to his plan, thinking it would probably be good for him to skip work for two days when he actually has the reason to.

When the lights are off and the street lights from the outside peered through the gap between the curtains into the room, Yongguk gives a space between him and Junhong on the floor, not wanting Junhong to get sick. That would be worse.

Junhong tosses and turns in his blanket.

“Daddy can I sleep closer to you?”

The inside of Yongguk’s head fills with fire again and he coughs into his blanket before he reluctantly pulls Junhong closer.

“You can’t be like this when you grow up.” Yongguk mutters into the silent of the night. It’s a habit of Junhong to sleep holding on to his own father, and Yongguk thinks Junhong just needs an anchor from his occasional childish nightmares.

Junhong small hands reach for his arm and wraps it around himself.

“Why not?” Junhong’s whisper has Yongguk smiling in the silence.

“You would have to be an adult one day, you can’t stay with me forever.”

“But I want to.”

Yongguk sighs.

“Is that why mommy left, Daddy? Because she grew up?”

Yongguk feels his heart hitch. Junhong mentioning his mother always has him a little taken aback. Sometimes he forgets that Junhong knows he has a mother somewhere out there. Yongguk doesn’t keep it from him that his mother left a long time ago when he was little, and Junhong doesn’t fully understand it, Yongguk knows, but he thinks it’s better that Junhong knows he’s not from an incomplete family. He does have a mother. She’s just not around in the little home they share.

“Why did mommy leave?”

Yongguk blinks in the dark. Little Junhong’s fingers are cool against his warm palm. He thinks he can see Junhong looking up at him in the dark.

“Maybe she was unhappy.” Yongguk finds himself saying.

Junhong stirs. “Why would she be unhappy?”

Yongguk feels his head pounding, feels the chill of the fever throughout his body.

They were young. And eager. They were stubborn.

 _She_ was so young. Maybe she did grow up and came to realize that all they had shared was just not meant for her. Maybe she missed the warmth and the protection from the harsh world her parents provided like Yongguk did too. Maybe it was too much for her. Yongguk was barely able to keep them happy, because work was tormenting, bosses were demanding. He came home and he was too tired to change the nappies, he snapped once because Junhong’s crying was too loud. She cried too.

Yongguk had been mad.

“Did I make her unhappy, Daddy?”

It was a scared little whisper. Yongguk feels his inside boiling.

“No, no.” He croaks out, and leans to press his numb lips against Junhong’s forehead.

Yongguk was the unhappy one. He left his parents. His own family. He lost his dreams. He dismissed music for a dead end job in the small office filled with telephone rings and stupid laughter from the managers who couldn’t care less about others.

He thinks of the blue record he let go, and the many others before he had given away for the little notes in exchange for Junhong’s life.

He hears Junhong cries in the middle of the night, and wipes the tears away from the small cheeks, his giant thumbs so big against the small boy’s face. His blood and flesh. The cries are always the same in the night, there’s something in the silence of the darkness that Junhong’s scared of regardless of anything. Junhong holds him tighter.

Through Junhong’s little sobs he remembers how he cruelly went against his parents wishes, the two people who had ever loved him so much and he left them so cold heartedly.

“Has Daddy ever told you?”

He feels himself smiling a little but it’s bitter. He’s bitter about everything.

“You were so sick a long time ago. Just like Daddy now. You were crying non stop. And Daddy had to run to take you to the clinic.”

“Don’t remember any of that.” Junhong sniffles, small fists against Yongguk’s chest.

Yongguk closes his eyes. “You cried even harder because the doctor gave you a shot. Junhong, when you grow up will you promise me you won’t cry while getting a shot?”

Junhong doesn’t answer.

 

 

The next morning Himchan arrives and Yongguk barely has Junhong ready for school. Himchan urges him to get him ready faster or Junhong would be late. Junhong takes his bag, the bag with his favorite cartoon character on it bouncing on his back as he runs to Himchan who grabs his hand.

Himchan reminds him to take his meds, and to get adequate rest.

When Yongguk’s alone, he feels the home a little too spacious, and starts cleaning the kitchen with a runny nose. He does the laundry after, cleaning the bathroom while the washing machine hums mechanically. When he finishes a little earlier than the timer on the machine, he reads the words on the bottle of bleach in his hand and then hung the wet clothes outside.

It’s noon when he finishes everything and he takes the time to rest. The house is quiet when he’s alone. He stares at the old ceiling and hears the sound of the water dripping.

The ceiling leaks at a corner. He watches the wet spot on the ceiling and on the floor. He places a can on the floor after wiping the floor dry, and the water drips and drips Yongguk feels his headache coming back.

He takes out the meds he bought, looks into the bag filled with pills. He looks at a bottle full with the white tablets, weighs it in his hand and thinks of the amount of the pills in the small bottle.

He puts it back inside and takes his meds for headache.

 

 

Junhong comes home running, wrapping himself around his father’s leg.

“Daddy!” He shouts, and Yongguk has to keep his balance with the weight around his leg as he finishes cooking the stew he has been working on.

“Did you learn a lot at school today?” Yongguk asks, putting down the ladle and picking the boy up. Bouncing him in his arms.

“Junnie learned animal names!”

“Really?”

Himchan closes the door behind him and Yongguk glances at the man before putting down the boy. Junhong runs to get his toys out of the box.

“Did you cook?” Himchan asks, looking at the pot boiling on the stove and hurries to it. He tastes it and makes a face immediately after.

Yongguk frowns.

“How does Junhong survive on your cooking?” Himchan presses his lips together and shuffling all around to get some salt and seasoning.

Yongguk sighs, rolling his eyes and lets Himchan do what he does best. Fixing those that Yongguk ruins.

Junhong runs to Yongguk and shows him his dinosaur figure.

“It’s a dinosaur!” He shows another one. “This is a tiger!”

“Why don’t you show your daddy the drawing you did at school Junnie?” Himchan says over his shoulder and Junhong runs to his schoolbag.

Yongguk sits on the floor with his son who took out a folded paper out of his bag. It’s a picture of two people holding hands.

“This is Daddy.” Junhong points to the messy scribble of a stick figure of a man. “This is Junong.”

Yongguk laughs proudly and ruffles his boy’s hair. “Wow, you did good. Can I keep this?”

He’s given a shake of the head and Yongguk raises an eyebrow at his son perplexedly.

Junhong points to the small space beside him in the drawing. “Mommy’s supposed to be here. Junnie wanted to draw her but Junnie don’t know how she looks like.”

Yongguk feels his smile fading. He grips on the corner of the paper.

“Maybe when mommy comes back Junnie can draw her?”

He sees Himchan looking at him with a worried look and avoids his friend’s gaze as he clears his throat.

“Let’s eat.” Yongguk mutters, giving Junhong his drawing back and taking out the table. He busies himself with fetching the cutleries while Junhong pouts at his own drawing.

Himchan sets the hot pot onto the table and they eat quietly.

The stew tastes good. Better than before. Yongguk eats a lot. He makes sure Junhong finishes his food and Junhong brings his toys to the table after eating, playing in his own world.

“Are you feeling better?”

Yongguk nods at Himchan. He takes more stew. It feels like a year since he has last eaten. Himchan chews on his rice slowly, the stainless steel spoon loose in his hand.

Junhong’s excitement has him knocking on Yongguk’s elbow and the man almost spills his food. Yongguk scolds the boy and Junhong scowls, crawling further from the table and resuming playing alone.

Himchan’s quiet. He stares at his food and doesn’t nag.

“Are you okay?” Yongguk decides to ask, subtly glancing at his friend. When Himchan looks at him he looks down to his own bowl.

Himchan hums. Yongguk isn’t one to pry, but Himchan sets his bowl down almost too hard and Yongguk stares at him with rather wide eyes.

“I have something to tell you.” Himchan blurts, and he’s jittery, Yongguk sees it. He’s rubbing his hands on his own thighs, almost preparing for something. Something big.

“What is it?” Yongguk looks away, somehow he doesn’t want to be too curious of Himchan’s excitement. He has to go to work tomorrow. He missed two days. He imagines there would be a lot of files waiting for him. He will need coffee, but sometimes too much coffee makes him sick. Or maybe it’s the office that’s making him sick.

“I can’t hold it in anymore.” Himchan laughs almost nervously, and Yongguk blinks. When’s the last time he’s that excited?

Junhong rolls around on the floor with his toys, Yongguk doesn’t say anything as long as he doesn’t bother him talking to Himchan. It gets hard to have a proper conversation when Junhong demands attention all the time with his screaming.

“Bbang,”

There’s a pause there, and it’s filled with Himchan’s dimple, and his wide, toothy smile.

“I’m getting married.”

The food’s tasteless in Yongguk’s mouth. He puts down his bowl and stares at his close friend of years dumbfoundedly.

“What? Since—when? How?”

Himchan chuckled, more relaxed now that the news is out. “I know I never really talked about this, but I decided I was serious, so I proposed to her.”

The words tumble out like little balls of colourful candies that Junhong loves but always spills. Skittles.

Yongguk does not say anything.

“It’s not too long ago. I don’t know what to say, I mean, things happened so fast. She said yes. We’re gonna meet each other’s parents, we have a lot of things to do…”

Somewhere along the way Yongguk forgets that Himchan had asked a certain woman out a long time ago. Himchan had been extremely nervous, asking Yongguk what should he do. How should he text her.

Do you think she likes flowers? She’s really nice. I really, really like her.

Himchan talks about it sometimes, but in the hectic life that is all Yongguk knows, there’s only work, Junhong, and Himchan who meddles into his life and cooks them good stew when the father and son starves in the small flat apartment.

“That’s good news, Himchan.”

Himchan’s smile is wider than any smile Yongguk has ever seen.

“I know.”

They laugh.

“I know!”

There’s the glimmer in Himchan’s eyes, the same sparkle that Yongguk saw in the same pair of eyes when he had confessed he was so in love with a woman they were risking everything for something he thought they shared.

Yongguk knows. He knows how it feels. And Himchan’s feeling it.

The meal turns quiet again. But it’s good quiet. One that’s filled with excitement.

Himchan notices the can in the corner accumulating water leaking from the ceiling and frowned. “Hey the ceiling’s leaking?” He asks, looking up.

There’s a dark spot on the ceiling that Junhong stares at some times.

Yongguk finishes his rice and hums.

Junhong said there’s a big fish living upstairs.

Himchan turns to him with a slight frown. “You should tell the landlord about this. You can’t live in a place like this. Maybe find a new place?”

The other nods dismissively, not bothering to tell Himchan he’s avoiding the landlord because he’s late on the rent. And really, the leaking ceiling is not a bother as long as it’s in the can.

“It’s fine.” Yongguk murmurs, catching Himchan’s stare and he smiles softly. “You have other stuff to worry. I’ll take care of things.”

Knowing what it meant, Himchan chuckles slightly, a soft blush almost coloring his cheeks and Yongguk smiles wider.

Himchan’s happy when he washes the dishes as Yongguk cleans the table. Junhong fell asleep on the floor and Yongguk carries him onto his futon and wraps the blanket around his little boy. He takes time to brush the soft hair and kisses the small nose.

When his friend takes his leave Yongguk congratulates him, and they hug. Yongguk remembers the way they cheered when good things happen to each other, and he closes his eyes and after all the bad things that have happened, it feels like a new chapter is coming after all.

Himchan leaves.

The door is locked. Yongguk shuts the lights off and lies in his blanket. He hears the hums of the traffic from outside and Junhong whines a little in his sleep.

The house just feels eerily empty.

 

 

The wind blows harder at greater heights, Yongguk realizes. He looks down at the traffic down there from the balcony of his office building, and quietly stares at all the little people and little toy-like cars moving on the road. The travel down takes lesser time than the ascend. It’s quite a bit unfair when he thinks about it.

“You okay over there?”

Yongguk swivels around almost too quickly, and he meets the eyes of a rather surprised co-worker who goes by the name Yoo Youngjae. He holds a cup of coffee in one hand.

Yongguk clears his throat and nods.

The younger co-worker walks to the rail, checking on the sight down the balcony, and looks at Yongguk questioningly.

“I don’t see anything interesting down there.” He says, the wind blows at his brown reddish hair and he blinks at his bangs.

Yongguk averts the other’s gaze, pressing his lips together. “I was just trying to clear my thoughts.”

Youngjae hums as he sips on his coffee.

When he glances at Youngjae again it’s like Youngjae demands more explanation and he finds himself fumbling with his words.

“I mean, this morning has been—um, my son was late to school—we rushed—”

“Take it easy there.” Youngjae chuckles, leaning against the handrail and pushing a hand into the pocket of his black slacks. “I get it. Always chaotic with the little Junhong?”

The older nods.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine I guess. Learning a lot of things in school. Good and bad.”

“Well, it’s a great age for learning.”

“Yeah.”

Silence ensues and Youngjae’s relaxed out there, the wind seems to brush him tenderly Yongguk’s almost jealous. All he feels from the wind is a force that’s going to knock him down anytime soon.

“Bring him to the office sometime. Would be great to have a little distraction from all the work.” Youngjae smiles at him.

He brought Junhong to the office once on take your child to work day. Youngjae’s a young, single man who loves kids, and finds Junhong endearing the moment he lays his eyes on the boys.

He showered Junhong with kisses and Junhong tried to avoid him all day, hiding himself under Yongguk’s desk to play with his paper boat that another co-worker made. Youngjae begged for Junhong to play with him and Junhong made him buy him a bar of chocolate from the vending machine. Youngjae did. Happily. Yongguk watched them with amusement.

Youngjae’s a fresh graduate. A young, smart man who deserves a better job than the one he got, in Yongguk’s opinion. But when Youngjae’s questioned about venturing for a better job with a better pay Youngjae says he’s taking it easy and does not want to rush things. But all Yongguk sees that waits for Youngjae are all good things. Only a few years younger than Yongguk and with a good education Youngjae is meant for better, huge things.

He has a future ahead of him. Nothing to hold him back and yet he had crawled on the floor with Junhong on his back around the office.

“Lunch time’s over.” Youngjae looks at his watch and softly nudges at Yongguk with his mug. He walks away with a smile.

Yongguk sighs, holding onto the handrail and looking down once more. He leaves and resumes work.

 

 

The sun’s about to set when Yongguk arrives at Junhong’s school. The windows to the classes are all closed and Junhong’s sitting on the bench with his teacher.

“Daddy, you’re late!” Junhong exclaims when Yongguk carries him on his arms.

Yongguk apologizes and Junhong kicks to be let down.

“I’m sorry I made you wait with Junhong.” Yongguk smiles at the teacher guiltily.

Junhong’s teacher a nice young man who never seems to get mad. And sometimes from Junhong’s story Yongguk thinks the kids take advantage of that.

“No, it’s okay. Junhong’s always a good company.” The teacher ruffles at Junhong’s hair.

“Well, we’ll take our leave then.” Yongguk bows and the teacher did too.

He takes Junhong’s bag and holds Junhong’s hand. And as they walk Junhong turns to wave at his teacher.

“Good bye teacher Jongup! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The journey back home’s tiring. Yongguk’s feeling worn out after a day of work catching up the two days he missed, and Junhong seems tired too. They got a seat on the train and Junhong’s still on his lap, watching the sky turning dark through the window behind his father with round eyes.

The corridor to home was dark, the lights aren’t even on. The door to home is silent, and Yongguk inserts the key in.

Junhong walks in yawning, and Yongguk checks the fridge for ingredients to cook for dinner.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, Junnie. You have to have dinner first and then bathe.” Yongguk says, preparing fried rice.

He lets Junhong play with his phone while he cooks just so the boy won’t fall sleep before his meal. He almost burns his thumb touching the pan but manages to safely prepare a simple dinner anyway.

They eat in silence, Junhong’s quiet with his head on the table, opening his mouth occasionally when Yongguk feeds him.

“Did you learn a lot today?”

Junhong nods, blinking slowly.

Yongguk doesn’t want to push it. Both of them are tired enough after a long day. The sound of the water from the ceiling dropping into the can fills the silence as they both eat quietly. When Yongguk glances at it he notices the water filled half of the can already.

After meal they bathed, and Junhong wanted to sleep but Yongguk pulls him into his lap and Junhong squeals at the sight of the nail clipper.

“No, Daddy no, I don’t want my nails clipped!” It’s the loudest he has ever been since he got home Yongguk’s pleasantly surprised.

“We have to trim them in case they get any longer.” Yongguk says, taking a hold of Junhong’s hand but Junhong pulls it away and hides it behind his back.

“I don’t care if it gets long.”

Yongguk raises his eyebrows at his son. “Really?”

Junhong nods.

“Even if they turn into snakes?”

Junhong hesitates, but nods anyway.

“And eat you in your sleep?”

“Daddy won’t let them eat me.” He says quietly.

Yongguk laugh, trying to take Junhong’s hand gently. “Alright, just close your eyes. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“But what if it does?”

“We’ve done this before haven’t we?” Yongguk sighs, brushing at his hair and Junhong blinks up at him, frowning and contemplating.

“You won’t cut off Junong’s fingers?”

Yongguk shakes his head and Junhong gives him his smaller hand. Before he could proceed Junhong reaches out with a pinky. And their pinkies intertwined briefly, the boy smiles nervously. Junhong shuts his eyes tightly while Yongguk trims his small nails one by one, holding onto the small fingers with care. When they’re done with his fingernails Junhong tries to move away but Yongguk holds him still on his lap.

“What about your toes?”

Junhong pouts and Yongguk laughs a little. Junhong’s ticklish at his feet and whines at Yongguk a lot. It’s a wonder how scared Junhong is having his toenails cut, and Yongguk has to hold him tightly before he understands that his father isn’t going to let him sleep until all his toenails are short and clean.

The boy covers his face with his hands, toenails clipped one by one and Yongguk lets him talk about everything just to distract him from the nail clipper.

 

 

The next day at work Yongguk learns their branch is going to experience a downsizing because the corporate thinks they should. It means employees getting laid off and the soft worried murmurs in the pantry has him unsettled until the end of the day of work.

Most of them are worried, speculating anyone, just anyone to get laid off. Yongguk thinks he hears his name among the whispers but dismissed it because his manager comes to his cubicle and asks about his son.

He answers curtly, and remembers the manager has three sons himself and is proud of them.

When the manager left, Yongguk holds onto the file on his desk and thinks of Junhong. He has a picture of the boy on his desk and he stares at it and strangely he feels like there’s nothing to worry about.

Youngjae comes after with a cup of coffee for Yongguk and Yongguk thanks him, but he wishes Youngjae would leave him alone. He doesn’t think he can hold a conversation with everything going on his mind.

“I don’t think a downsizing is bad.” Youngjae says. “There’s always other places.”

Yongguk doesn’t answer.

“If I get laid off I don’t want to work anymore.”

Yongguk manages a small smile for the younger.

“Screw corporate.” Youngjae says.

Before Youngjae leaves he squeezes Yongguk’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t listen to them, Yongguk. They think they know better.”

 

 

Yongguk’s late to pick Junhong up again. And Jongup the teacher smiles politely at him.

“We’re having a fieldtrip tomorrow.” Jongup tells him and Junhong jumps around excitedly.

“Yes Daddy! Teacher Jongup said we’ll be seeing giraffes and elephants!”

Jongup chuckles at Junhong’s antics. “Tomorrow’s session will end early, hopefully by 3. And a prepared lunchbox would be good for Junhong.”

Yongguk nods silently at everything.

The journey home is filled with Junhong’s talk about animals and pokemons. He asks whether Yongguk knows which pokemon would be in the zoo but Yongguk dismisses the question.

“I want to see an otter, Daddy. I love otters. Junong saw them on tv once.”

Junhong takes out his toys once they’re home and lines them up on the floor. He figures which one he’s going the see the next day while Yongguk’s trying to figure out what to prepare for dinner.

Even in his father’s silence Junhong notices him contemplating and walks to him by the fridge.

“Daddy, why is Uncle Himchan not coming to cook dinner?”

Yongguk looks down at him and closes the fridge. “He’s busy, Junhong.”

Himchan’s probably meeting up with his girlfriend’s parents, probably having dinner with her somewhere. Probably planning the wedding. He is going to have his own big day anyway.

Himchan’s parents probably wholeheartedly agree on their wedding and beams at the thought of a bride for their son. Yongguk knows how nice the two old couple are, Yongguk and Junhong see them every thanksgiving. They’re always too kind to invite the two to have a feast with them. Junhong calls them grandma and grandpa and Yongguk’s a little hurt when they let him.

Yongguk cooks ramen and Junhong’s eats it too soon, crying because it’s too hot. Yongguk gives him cold water and Junhong thankfully calms down, gulping on the cold water like his life depends on it.

Yongguk thinks about work tomorrow, the downsizing, the leaking ceiling. He looks at the clock and it is late already. The can’s almost full he needs to get rid of the water.

“Tomorrow Daehyun will pick you up from school, okay?”

Junhong gasps. “No!” He shouts. “Daddy, no! Junnie don’t like Daehyun-hyung!”

Yongguk ignores the protest, washing the dishes.

“He’ll look over you while I finish my work tomorrow.”

Junhong tugs at his pants. “Daddy please! Daehyun-hyung kisses too much and can be mean.”

Jung Daehyun’s a junior Yongguk and Himchan met from college who’s fond of Junhong but apparently it only goes one way. He’s currently a research assistant and has agreed to look over Junhong the next day since he’s free. Yongguk doesn’t think he can leave early from work especially when a goddamn downsizing’s on its way.

“He’s nice, you’re just making excuses, Junhong.” Yongguk sighs and Junhong sits on the floor.

“I don’t want it!” He screams and Yongguk shuts his eyes, feels the water running down his hand, the coldness on his wrists and sighs.

When he opens his eyes again his ears are filled with Junhong’s protest and he watches the water running down his skin, his wrist. It just spreads the chill round his flesh, like a string. He imagines some other color. Not transparent. Not clear. Opaque. And dark.

Junhong refuses to bathe and hides himself in his blanket.

Yongguk rubs his forehead tiredly, wanting to get the day over with already but Junhong’s making it hard.

“Come on, bathe first before you sleep.”

Junhong whines something inaudible in the roll of his blanket and Yongguk walks to the small roll on the floor.

“Junhong, get out of there.” He says.

“Not if Daehyun-hyung’s coming for Junong tomorrow.”

Yongguk sighs.

He sits in silence on the floor, next to the small bundle of blanket and his head hurts. He feels his head pounding and he remembers the small cars, looking like toys on the road. He thinks of the water around his hand. He thinks of the medicines in the cupboard in the kitchen. The full bottle by the washing machine.

“When will you ever listen to me properly?”

Junhong doesn’t answer.

Yongguk stands up, storming to the closet and taking out Junhong’s clothes. He kneels on the floor again and tugs at the blanket.

Junhong screams, trying to keep himself in the blanket but Yongguk’s the adult there, and he rips the blanket from Junhong, taking a hold of the small hands.

Junhong cries, kicking at him with his little feet. Protesting loudly, his face is red and tear stained.

“I don’t want!” Junhong cries out when Yongguk pulls him away from his blanket. He punches at his father’s chest when Yongguk attempts to change his clothes.

He only manages the shirt when Junhong slaps at his face and frees himself from Yongguk’s hold. He scurries into his blanket again, scared and sobbing.

Yongguk watches him curling into a small ball in his blanket on the floor, weeping and hiding himself from his own father.

The lone father in the small home sits there and sighs deeply. The walls seem to be closing in, the loud cries from the boy only echoing in his mind so strongly it hurts.

He decides to leave Junhong be. Bathing alone and thinking of all the things in the water. His cheek stings from Junhong’s small hand and when he checks in the cracked, foggy mirror he only sees a miserable man who couldn’t even handle a five year old by himself.

By the time he went out of the bathroom Junhong’s quiet. He hears a tiny sniffle from the boy, but says nothing.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, restless, he doesn’t think he can sleep to face the day tomorrow.

His phone beeps and it’s a text from Himchan.

_How are you and Junhong doing?_

He turns his phone off and picks up Junhong’s uniform lying on the floor. He throws it into the laundry basket and takes Junhong’s school bag where Junhong has left it before. It lies on the floor among his toys and he gathers the toys and puts them into the box.

He lays his futon out and switches off the lights. Junhong’s quiet and is probably sleeping already. When Yongguk holds his shoulder to turn him around Junhong moves further away from him.

When the darkness comes as he closes his eyes he feels Junhong’s hand jutting out from the roll of the blanket and reaches for his big fingers.

Yongguk says nothing and tries to go to sleep with a thumping headache.

 

 

They almost overslept the next day. Yongguk urging Junhong to get ready faster, and doesn’t think there’s time for breakfast. He’s tying his tie as fast as he can and takes Junhong’s schoolbag.

When he checks the content of the schoolbag he found a lot of drawings.

Junhong drew giraffes and elephants in messy squiggles of yellow and grey crayons.

He drew an otter too and in a messy handwriting wrote “Mr. Otter I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He clears the content, and found the drawing Junhong showed him before.

It’s still only him and Junhong, and Yongguk feels a little ache in his chest when he thinks it will never be completed, and Junhong doesn’t know it.

He folds the paper neatly, thinks of the woman who left the home he and Junhong live in.

There are times when he wonders how she’s doing. She must be out there somewhere. Maybe she went back to her parents and gained their forgiveness. And maybe she continued her studies and is now a fresh graduate looking for a job around town. Maybe she already has a job and drinks coffee with her co-worker. Just like Youngjae.

He wonders if she ever thinks back to him and Junhong. Has it occurred to her to come back?

Suddenly he’s reminded he has to prepare a lunchbox for Junhong and he shuffles around in the kitchen, looking through the cupboard. He opens the fridge and realizes he needs to shop for grocery. They barely have any food left.

He looks through the cupboard again, but found nothing. He opens the fridge again. Nothing.

Scratching at his head, frustrated, he looks at the clock and realizes they would barely make it in time even if they rush.

Junhong’s rubbing his eyes sleepily, putting on his shoes and all the anger he had in him the night before forgotten.

Yongguk’s decided to risk it and takes a packet of ramen and shoves it into Junhong’s bag. He takes the boy’s hand and they almost stumble in Yongguk’s haste. He almost forgot to lock the door and they rush down the stairs.

They almost missed the train and Junhong screams as they run for it. Barely managing to get in.

When they arrived at the school, parents and children are already gathered in front of the school.

Junhong skips beside Yongguk and there’s already a small bus waiting, the driver talking to some parents.

Junhong’s silent and Yongguk looks at him. He watches the way Junhong stares at the kids with their moms, the women holding onto bags probably filled with prepared lunchboxes, probably rice rolls, and pretty omelettes.

Yongguk used to have Junhong’s mother preparing him lunchboxes. He remembers the neat, round rice rolls. The beautifully crafted rice balls too. And the carefully sliced omelettes that colored the lunchbox with a little bit more sunshine. Sometimes there were little notes. Cheer up, grumpy Gukkie!

He wishes Junhong has gotten a chance to taste them.

“Good morning Junhong.” Jongup greets Junhong happily and Yongguk lets go of the boy’s hand. “Are you ready for our fieldtrip today?”

“Yes!” Junhong exclaims heartily.

Yongguk nods at the teacher and kisses the top of Junhong’s head.

“Daddy,” Junhong holds onto his arm and frowns at Yongguk. He has a serious look on his face and Yongguk raises his eyebrows at him. “Is Daehyun-Hyung still picking Junong up today?”

Yongguk sighs. “Yes.”

Junhong scowls and Yongguk sees his eyes glazing over. “Why can’t Uncle Himchan come instead?”

“I told you, he’s busy.” Yongguk murmurs, taking a hold of Junhong’s hand on his arm and letting his thumb rub at the back of his son’s hand soothingly.

“But I don’t like Daehyun-hyung.”

And Junhong’s voice cracks a little, Yongguk lets him go.

When he walks away Junhong’s staring at him with teary eyes and a round, pouting lips.

Yongguk doesn’t look back.

The train to work is crowded. He stares blankly out the window. When he slips his hand into the pocket of his pants and takes it out again he finds himself holding Junhong’s drawing.

He looks at it and realizes the old man beside him is staring at the drawing over his shoulder. He keeps it to himself instead and wonders what another day of work is going to bring to him.

In the office, in his cubicle he left Junhong’s drawing on his desk. Small folded, little paper. Even then he could still see the space Junhong left for the person he never knew.

Sometimes he thinks whether Junhong’s mother regretted ever leaving them. And sometimes he tells himself he’s just trying to make himself feel better.

But then didn’t she cry the night she left?

The night replays itself in Yongguk’s head, over and over again like a silent movie. She didn’t say anything to them, to him.

Nothing close to a goodbye, a farewell.

He doesn’t know if it’s better that way, or if it’s worse. He doesn’t know where she went. He doesn’t know why, although it’s probably clear. He also doesn’t know if she thinks of Junhong while walking down the corridor from home. Whether she hesitated down the stairs from home.

Did she regret not leaving at least a farewell note?

Why didn’t she?

Maybe if she had taken the time to write something Yongguk could’ve come in time and stop her. There are times when Yongguk thinks he could have stopped her if he was just given a chance. And then there are other times when he thinks anything he could ever do would never stop her from leaving the next day, the next night, the next week, month, year.

But it was all wishful thinking. To think that he could even walk in through the door and find her with her bag filled with her small, pretty clothes. Red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks.

It was all wishful thinking because it never happened.

It was only one reality and it was one where Yongguk arrived home with a sleeping Junhong in his arms, abandoned.

So he hated her the first year she left. Thought she was weak. A coward. A betrayer.

He cursed her in everything he did. Cursed her when he washed the dishes in the sink while the poor Junhong cried. Cursed her when Junhong threw up on the floor. Cursed her when he realized they were short on money for Junhong’s milk formula.

There were wishes she would suffer without him and Junhong. Found life was difficult without her child that she left. Found it hard to live without her own flesh and blood and because guilt ate her up inside she could barely live with the thought that she had left Yongguk and Junhong.

The second year he tried not to think about her. She didn’t exist anymore. She left so she was gone. Junhong only deserved to know Yongguk only and only deserved Yongguk’s love.

The third year he missed her.

He saw her in Junhong’s eyes and the way Junhong smiles. His heart ached and he wished she would come back and hold Junhong when he cried, and hold Yongguk because Yongguk didn’t think he could go on anymore.

He wishes he doesn’t have to think about the past or anything anymore.

Junhong asked about his mother and Yongguk thinks it was the day he found himself dying.

 

 

 

Junhong runs to Yongguk across the park with snots running down his nose and teary eyes. Daehyun follows behind worriedly.

“Daddy, Daehyun-hyung scolded me!” Junhong cries into his shoulder once Yongguk hoisted him up, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around Yongguk.

Daehyun pants, tired after catching up with Junhong who ran across the playground. “No, I didn’t, he’s lying, Yongguk.” He wipes at the sweat on his forehead and squints under the orange sun.

“Did he, Junhong?” Yongguk asks.

Junhong nods fervently against his shoulder, Yongguk feels the fabric getting wet from the boy’s tears.

Daehyun gawks at the boy when Yongguk looks at him. “No, I didn’t! If anything Junhong was screaming at me to be his horsey!”

“Daehyun-hyung didn’t want to because he’s mean!” Junhong snaps.

“He pulled at my hair, look.” Daehyun points at a strand of his hair jutting out of place.

Yongguk pats his shoulder. “I know, I know.” He mutters and Daehyun sighs.

He puts Junhong down and Junhong wipes at his eyes. He sticks a tongue out at Daehyun and Yongguk ignores it.

“I’m sorry I’m late, thanks for today.” Yongguk mutters, taking Junhong’s bag.

“No problem.” Daehyun nods. “Junhong’s a little upset I guess, that’s all. I swear I did nothing wrong!”

Yongguk gave him a small assuring smile. “Thanks again.”

Daehyun smiles. “Anytime Yongguk.”

Yongguk tugs at Junhong’s hand to go home.

“Wait, Yongguk.”

Yongguk cranes his neck, looking at Daehyun expectantly. Daehyun rummages into his bag and hands Yongguk something.

It’s the packet of ramen he packed for Junhong earlier that morning.

“The teacher gave me this. Told me to give it to you.” Daehyun says a little confusedly.

“Thanks.”

They walk home silently, or at least Yongguk’s silent. Junhong’s rambling about otters on slides and playing with pebbles. Says he wants to keep a pebble for himself too and they should go out and search for a good one.

“Did you have lunch today?” Yongguk asks in a flat tone as they crossed a road.

Junhong’s skipping beside him. “Teacher Jongup prepared a lunch box for Junong!” Junhong exclaims happily.

Yongguk looks at the packet of ramen in his hand, and shoves it into his bag instead.

“Daddy, please don’t let Daehyun-hyung pick me up from school again?”

“Why?”

“I don’t like him.”

Yongguk sighs. “You’ll have to live with it, Junhong.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“You should really listen to me, you know that?”

Junhong doesn’t answer, and when Yongguk looks down he’s pouting sadly.

It’s silent for a moment, and Yongguk feels his head thumping again. He couldn’t sleep properly the few days, busy with work and Junhong. Junhong acting up doesn’t help anything at all.

Junhong lets go of his hand, walking beside him with his head lowered.

Realizing they’re in a crowd Yongguk reaches for his hand and grabs it despite Junhong’s protest.

“Daddy, can we go out and look for a pebble?” Junhong asks.

“No.”

There’s a lot of work to be done. He hasn’t bought grocery. He doesn’t even know what to prepare for dinner today. Tomorrow he has to show up early to work because someone from corporate is visiting, and then there’s downsizing and everyone’s worried, everyone’s talking. Youngjae looks at him with a sorry look on his face he ignores Youngjae at work every day now.

“Why not, Daddy?”

“Because I’m busy.”

“Can Uncle Himchan bring me instead?”

“No.”

“But why?”

“He’s busy.”

“But Uncle Himchan used to pick Junong up from school and cooked dinner. Why is he busy now?”

“He has his own life, Junhong.”

They walk to the apartment building and Junhong’s slowing down. Yongguk tugs at his hand to make him walk quicker he almost stumble.

“When will he pick Junong up again? And cook dinner?”

Yongguk sighs. He really has no time for questions like this. He has a lot of things to think about, his head is already hurting. And all he could think of is sleep, which he is probably would never get anyway. And then it’s another day again. Another day like this. Chaotic, dull, boring. Repetitive.

Tormenting.

“Daddy?”

Everything feels like it’s too much now.

“Daddy?”

Yongguk wishes everything could go away.

“Daddy?”

“What?!”

He’s staring down at Junhong on the stairs, chest heaving, angry, frustrated. He’s mad. He’s mad things are weighing him down. He’s tired. Life’s too hard. Junhong’s mother left and she’s probably happy out there, living the life she has ever wanted, Yongguk forgotten, not even in the back of her mind.

Junhong whimpers, trying to free his hand from Yongguk’s too tight of a grip. His eyes pools with tears, and Yongguk tired. He tired of it. He’s sick of everything.

“Will Uncle Himchan come again?” Junhong asks instead, frowning with heavy tears threatening to fall.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, Junhong.”

He pulls at Junhong’s hand and Junhong struggles to climb the stairs behind him.

“Why not?”

He’s getting married. He has his own life. He’s probably happy out there, living the life he has ever wanted, Yongguk forgotten, left behind even in the back of his mind.

“Is he not coming back, Daddy?”

“Daddy?”

“Daddy please—”

“Would you for once in your life shut up, Junhong?!”

Yongguk finds himself glaring at his own son. This time Junhong’s tears fall, fat beads against his cheeks, rolling down so mockingly it’s driving Yongguk crazy.

“He’s not coming back!”

His voice echoes in the staircase, and Junhong’s face scrunches painfully as he cries, so much like his mother. The heartless woman who left them years ago and never came back. Not even showed herself for once. Doesn’t bother checking up on them at all.

“But… Why?”

Furious, extremely furious that Junhong dares to ask another question Yongguk huffs and pulls him up the stairs, fuming and heat filling his head.

“Daddy, let go.”

He doesn’t. He stabs the key into the doorknob and kicks the door open angrily.

What’s the point of dinner if you’re going to die one day anyway?

What’s the point of loving someone when you’re going to leave them to suffer anyway?

What’s the point of coming over if you’re going leave anyway?

What’s the point of living if you can’t go on?

Junhong wails, pushed into the flat and almost tripping over his own foot.

“Stop crying, will you?”

Junhong shakes his little head, face red, painted with tears already. The same face on that one night when everything went wrong and everything left Yongguk.

“Junhong, for God’s sake will you shut up?!”

Yongguk takes off his shoes and when he reaches for Junhong, Junhong flinches away, crying so loudly Yongguk’s head hurt.

“Why is Uncle Himchan not coming back?”

Yongguk groans, throwing his hands into the air.

“I don’t fucking know. He has his own life, okay?”

“Is it because he’s unhappy?”

Yongguk stares at Junhong in a seething silence.

With no answer Junhong cries even louder, mouth opened wide to let out his voice and Yongguk curses under his breath because he couldn’t handle it anymore.

He’s going to lose his job. He’s going to have to let go of a lot of things. Maybe his records that he treasured. The house. He’s going to go crazy. He doesn’t feel like going on anymore. He doesn’t even want to prepare dinner. Junhong’s too much. Junhong’s unbearable.

“Stop crying!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“For fuck’s sake just shut up, Junhong! This is why people leave you, you know that! You can’t even handle a single fucking thing and you just cry and you’re so! Fucking hard to handle!”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but his chest hurt, he can’t see clearly and he thinks there are tears in his eyes. Hot burning tears. Ready to scald his skin.

“I want mommy!”

“She’s not here! She left you a long time ago don’t you get it?!”

The weird thing about tears is that they come from you, and betrays you.

“She’s unhappy with you! You made her fucking unhappy and now look, she’s gone! It’s because of you, if you would have just stopped crying and making everyone sick of you!”

Yongguk’s a mad man. Life’s hard. He’s crushed.

“And look, Himchan left you! He’s unhappy with you!”

Junhong’s cry is loud enough to rattle the walls around them, Yongguk hears neighbours shouting through the walls. He hears Junhong’s mother crying.

_“Junhong’s sick, Yongguk.”_

He hears Himchan.

_“Bbang, I’m getting married.”_

He doesn’t think he’s moving anymore. Once he believed he has a future and he could live happily, but now life is bleak and future is intimidating. He doesn’t have anything. He keeps losing everything.

He keeps getting left behind.

Left behind in the deafening cries of the only reason he could think of that has resulted in his damned life right now.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, goddamnit, Junhong.”

The five year old wails louder, tears squeezing out of his eyes, face so red it seems like it could burs 

“I’m leaving you!”

And it’s silent in the house.

Junhong stares at him with halted tears, full of disbelief.

And he chokes, all five years of his life he can’t find it to say anything. But there are only three obvious words that Yongguk has ever deserved.

“I hate you!”

The three words echoed in the small home, cramped bathroom and the kitchen with unwashed dishes in the sink.

The three words hung in the air, repeating itself in Yongguk’s ears and before he knows it Junhong isn’t there anymore.

He merely watches his own son running away from him. Maybe if he was in time for his son’s mother that night, he would only watch her run away.

He covers his eyes.

Doesn’t want to see anything. Doesn’t want to acknowledge everything is real.

But there are tears welling in his eyes, so despicable and he has lost the will to live a long time ago.

He can never do anything to fix everything.

A sob wracks out of his chest and he breaks down on the floor.

“Oh, no, Junhong…”

And now Junhong’s gone, and he’s crying painfully.

But he’s sick of his life. Sick of the early mornings in the small flat apartment. Sick of the way Junhong makes everything so much harder than it should be.

The ceiling’s leaking and it gets annoying at night Yongguk can barely sleep.

The can’s brimming, the big fish upstairs doesn’t care if it drives Yongguk crazy.

He’s tired of work. Downsizing. The hours in the small cubicle are killing him and he barely has any life left to be killed.

And then he has to rush to pick Junhong up. And the school’s closed. All the kids went back already. He’s always late. The teacher knows he’s a bad parent. He’s useless.

He’s never on time for Junhong.

“Yongguk?”

The nights are the scariest, sometimes Junhong cries. And he thinks about the woman who left them and finds himself wishing she would just come back.

“Yongguk, what happened?”

It’s stupid how he’s ready to offer her forgiveness. If only she returns.

There’s a hand on his shoulder and he’s not thinking clearly.

“Where’s Junhong?”

Himchan’s pair of worried eyes come into sight, and Yongguk’s quiet. He’s unable to speak, he’s rendered breathless and useless. It’s all there is to him isn’t it?

“Oh my god, what happened?” Himchan looks over him worriedly, and Yongguk’s destroyed, sitting there on the ground and unmoving.

Yongguk struggles to talk. He can’t find his breath, he’s losing it. He lost Junhong.

“I lost Junhong.”

Himchan looks around the house and at Yongguk again. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know.”

Himchan runs around the house, pushing the door of the bathroom open, pulling the closet open only to have a bundle of clothes to fall all over the floor.

“Goddamnit, Yongguk why are you still sitting here?” Himchan pulls him up, and he feels like a ghost.

Himchan takes his shoes and places it in front of him. Yongguk finds Himchan looking at him expectantly.

“What are you waiting for? Put on your shoes, we need to go out there and get Junhong.”

Yongguk couldn’t move.

“Hey, hey, wake up.”

He feels a hand tapping his cheek.

Junhong, he reminds himself.

He puts on his shoes, barely able to control his movement. Did he just shout at Junhong? Did he just make Junhong run away?

He hears Himchan apologizing to people outside. The neighbours are out. Did the walls rattle in their home too? Do they close in on them, like it always do for Yongguk?

“Yongguk, hurry.”

Narrowing down, crushing, suffocating.

“Did he just run away like that?” Himchan cranes his neck to look at Yongguk, his eyes worried and the whole urgency in his voice is unable to be registered into Yongguk’s mind right now.

“He just… ran… Junhong…”

He thinks he sees disappointment in Himchan’s eyes. He’s disappointed too. Junhong ran away right in front of him and he did nothing.

“Oh, no, Junhong.”

Yongguk can’t feel his legs, he sees them moving down the stairs. Himchan’s voice echoes.

Junhong’s name bounces down the stairs, unanswered.

Himchan checks under the stairs on ground floor, and Yongguk’s merely standing there, blank stare and heart thumping.

“What are you doing?” Himchan anxiously asks, walking to him. His eyebrows are knitted, frowning. “Yongguk your son is missing.”

Yongguk can’t answer.

Himchan sighs, and runs around the building, calling for Junhong.

“God damn it look for Junhong, Bbang. Don’t just stand there.”

The sky’s orange. The pots near the ground floor flats cast long shadows on the ground. There is no one outside. Yongguk looks around, he doesn’t see Junhong.

There are kids playing ball nearby. But Junhong’s not one of them. Himchan runs to them and asks them if they have seen Junhong but they all shake their head.

“Where can he be? Does Junhong even know his way around here?”

They walk on the narrow street, there is a grandma looking over her flowers in a pot and Himchan asks her if she’s seen Junhong. She shakes her head.

There are kids buying ice cream at a shop.

The sun’s burning out.

Himchan groans. Yongguk hears him talking to himself, running around, looking around, asking around.

Yongguk feels the ground shifting beneath him. His stomach twists because Junhong’s nowhere to be found. It’s his fault. It’s his entire fault.

“The playground!” Himchan snaps around to look at Yongguk. His eyes are wild, he’s worried and Yongguk’s barely there. “He might be there come on!”

He runs. Yongguk has a hard time catching up. He’s slow.

He’s getting left behind.

And the playground’s empty by the time they get there, the sky dark.

He sees Himchan rubbing his face with his hands, eyes gleaming under the evening sky.

Yongguk can’t go on. Junhong’s gone. Like his mother. They run away too quick, Yongguk’s slow for everything, he’s never on time.

His legs feel weak and gave in on the bench and he buries his face into his hands.

“No, no, he might be somewhere else, don’t sit there.” Himchan’s voice strained. He’s panting, out of breath.

Yongguk can’t breathe.

“I lost him.”

Himchan stares at the man bent on the bench.

Himchan sits beside him, hurriedly taking out his phone. “I’m calling the police.” He mutters, his breathes are weary after running and shouting the same name over and over again.

Yongguk looks at the hasty thumbs on the screen and places a hand on Himchan’s. When Himchan looks at him all Yongguk sees is worries. Unecessary worries.

“It’s my fault.”

Himchan blinks. “What do you mean?”

Yongguk doesn’t think he can face Himchan when he says it, so he looks away and his chest tightens, his heart aches and tears make their way in his eyes again.

“I told him I’m leaving him.”

His friend’s hand falls limp on his knee.

“I’m going crazy, Himchan.” And this time his voice breaks, and tears roll down his cheek. He covers his face, his miserable face and he feels pathetic. “I can’t take care of him. I’m losing myself and Junhong’s growing so terribly with me.”

Himchan’s silent.

“You know what, his mother left because she’s right. She was unhappy and I keep making Junhong cry like I made her too.”

If he’s so bad at taking care of Junhong, then Junhong was only going to grow into a mad man like him. He didn’t want that. Junhong didn’t deserve all the suffering in the world but everything in Yongguk’s life has only pointed to one thing, and it was loneliness and hurt. He can barely stop Junhong from crying.

The evening is quiet because Junhong’s not there. In Yongguk’s chaotic life he barely knows silence anymore. It’s unfamiliar now. It’s scary.

He’s scared because he’s bad at raising Junhong by himself. He’s the worst when Junhong needs him to be a good father.

Told the boy he’s leaving when all Junhong ever needs is someone to stay.

“I can’t go on like this, Himchan.” He sobs, body shaking. “I’m worthless. When you’re not around I can barely get a hold of my life. I’m slow in everything and Junhong’s growing too fast I can’t catch up.”

He feels Himchan takes his hand and his hand shakes, Himchan squeezes it.

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Bbang.”

“No, I’m being too easy on myself.”

When Yongguk barely slept after Junhong mother left and Junhong was suffering as a tiny baby it was Himchan who came and reached out. It was a wonder how Himchan came despite not knowing the rescue Yongguk needed so much.

Who knew what would have happened to Junhong if Himchan didn’t come.

Yongguk could barely do anything.

But unlike Yongguk, Himchan’s always on time for Junhong.

Soothed the boy when Yongguk couldn’t. Fed the boy when Yongguk couldn’t even cook.

He was a dead body when she left. And Himchan was keeping him alive, with his better stew and nagging.

Yongguk thought, when she left he wasn’t going to make it.

But when Himchan stayed with them over the years and made Junhong smile a lot he thought he was going to make it just fine as long as he has Himchan.

“And now you’re getting married. I’ve depended too much on you, I barely know how to take care of Junhong by myself.”

In all the chaotic life those years Junhong lived, Yongguk thought Himchan was going to stay and keep him standing because that’s what he does best. And Yongguk’s just bad at keeping himself upright, he gets toppled down easily because he’s heavy and he’s slow.

Now he’s getting left behind, like he always does. Junhong’s mother out there living the life she ever wanted, regained the youth she has deserved and Yongguk’s left in the small flat apartment barely making it through, with his lost dreams and youth that he fantasizes back when Junhong’s not in his life.

Himchan’s moving ahead too, getting married. He has his own life and he’s going to live the life he wants with the woman he loves. He deserves everything good then why does Yongguk feel betrayed?

Because Yongguk’s wrong when he thought two people can share the same thoughts and feelings.

Everyone’s different and he’s going to be alone all his life. Junhong will grow and will have different ideas and he’s going to get left behind because that’s what he’s all good for.

The can in the corner’s brimming with water, Yongguk doesn’t leave the house because he’s a fool for thinking that Junhong’s mother would come back and knows where to find them. The big fish upstairs thinks it’s silly because that will never happen.

“I can’t do what you do. After all these years I realized I can’t even keep myself breathing, and I’m so fucking useless. What good am I for Junhong?”

Junhong deserves a better life. A better parent and Yongguk’s not it.

“Oh, Bbang.” Himchan sighs. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I’m selfish. When you told me you’re getting married I prayed that you wouldn’t and that you would stay.”

Himchan’s silent.

“And so many times I have thought about killing myself.” Yongguk feels like laughing when he says it. “Now that I’m left behind I think about it all the time and it’s unbearable.”

And absolutely tempting.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud. And he thinks of the toy cars, the sharp odor of the clear liquid by the washing machine, water around his wrists, and the pills in the cupboard.

“I don’t want to go on. I don’t want to live anymore.”

Himchan wraps an arm around him and Yongguk cries because he has lost everything and never gain anything.

“Maybe you can take better care of Junhong, I have it all in my mind, Himchan and the thoughts never go away. They’re here every day and I’m barely breathing.”

Himchan lets him rest his head against his shoulder and hums sadly.

“Oh, life, go easy on Bang Yongguk.” Himchan whispers when the tears flowed like river and Yongguk’s shaking with every sob.

He feels Himchan’s thumb rubbing his shoulder and it’s all he’s good for. Always depending on someone to be on time just cause he’s slow and late.

“I know life has been hard on you, Bbang.” Himchan murmurs. “But did you really think I was leaving you behind?”

Yongguk nods and he feels like a little child. He misses his parents and has never seen them after he left with Junhong’s mother. He made a bad decision and now everything’s bad and it’s all he deserved.

“I am getting married. But I’m not going to forget you and Junhong.” He thinks he hears Himchan smile. “You’re my closest friend, do you even remember when you kept me alive?”

Yongguk shakes his head.

“Back in school when I’m failing I thought about dying and you made it all better cause you told me I’m made for better things. The things you did for me, Yongguk, why do you forget about it all and only remember the things I did for you?”

They’re silent, except for Yongguk’s tears. He thinks he remembers holding Himchan the same way and the tear stain on his school uniform years ago. He remembers Himchan skipping meals and the hollow cheeks and remembers Himchan smiling at him years ago too.

“Now, let’s go find Junhong.”

Yongguk pulls away, and looks at Himchan with teary eyes.

Himchan smiles.

“The only person keeping you standing is you, Bbang, and Junhong.”

The sun is gone. So is Junhong. The thought that he made himself lose Junhong eats him up inside and he’s blaming himself for the words he said to Junhong.

“I know you think I’m a bad dad.” Yongguk says.

Himchan sighs and shakes his head. “No, Bbang, come on, you—”

His words halt and he’s not breathing. Yongguk watches Himchan’s eyes widening, and Himchan’s head snaps to the side, looking at the slide.

Yongguk watches confusedly as Himchan jumps to his feet, running to slide.

“Junhong! Junhong! Is that you?”

He sees Himchan peering into the dark slide from the bottom, and he’s standing up in disbelief, heart racing immediately. He walks slowly to Himchan.

“Oh, Junhong.” Himchan’s relieved. “There you are, we thought we lost you.” He smiles up the slide and Yongguk can’t see his son.

He doesn’t dare take another step. He’s silent. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face Junhong.

“Come down now, come on, I’m right here.”

He hears a sniffle from the slide. And Himchan’s squatting, arms reaching into the slide.

Yongguk watches Himchan pulling Junhong into the safety of his arms, and Junhong wraps himself around Himchan, hiding himself.

Himchan looks at Yongguk and smiled widely. “Found him.”

“Junhong.” Yongguk calls.

Junhong whimpers, hiding his face into Himchan’s shoulder.

Himchan presses his lips together and gives Yongguk an apologetic look.

They walk back to the apartment building silently, Yongguk behind Himchan and watching the way Junhong hides himself from his own father.

“There are a lot of stars, Junhong. Do you want to look?” Himchan asks but Junhong doesn’t answer. “What do you want to eat? Hey, let’s go get some fried chicken.” He goes on and the father and son are quiet. Himchan still doesn’t stop talking.

They stop by a fried chicken place, and Himchan places Junhong on his lap, ordering happily. Junhong refuses to meet eyes with Yongguk, the waiter gives Yongguk a look because his eyes are swollen and puffy but he ignores it.

Yongguk’s barely eating and Junhong only lets Himchan feed him, still rubbing at his watery eyes and pouting with his small pink lips.

He can’t hear Junhong speak. Junhong mumbles into Himchan’s ears with his broken voice.

Even after the meal Junhong still refuses to look at his own father.

The walk home is silent for once. Himchan doesn’t say anything, shoulders hunched, holding on to the five year old clinging on him. From behind Yongguk can only see the small feet dangling, the peek of messy hair jutting behind Himchan’s shoulder.

Yongguk lets Himchan and Junhong enter the flat apartment by themselves, lingering outside. The door’s closed after an understanding look from Himchan. The lights lining the way hum almost understandingly.

The sky is full of stars now that he looks at it. The moon’s obscure but it’s always there, he finds himself thinking.

He pushes his hands into the pocket of his pants. And feels the folded paper in the right one. When he takes it out it’s Junhong’s drawing again. The papers a little more crumpled now, but Junhong’s scribbly lines of two people on the white paper are still clear.

There’s no background, it seems like the two of them are floating in a white space.

Doesn’t seem like they have anywhere to go.

They’re holding hands.

Junhong’s small thumb always slips off Yongguk’s grip, his pinky’s small but it intertwines with Yongguk’s so well when he makes the father promise something.

Maybe if Yongguk let go of Junhong’s hand he would stop Junhong from getting left behind too.

“You okay there?” Himchan asks, the door open.

Yongguk doesn’t see Junhong from where he’s standing. He nods slowly, unwilling to meet Himchan’s eyes.

Himchan walks out, closing the door slightly but not fully. He looks at the drawing in Yongguk’s hand. “Five year olds draw so well I swear.” Himchan says, his voice slightly gruffy, and he chuckles slightly but the sky is still dark. The stars twinkle and Yongguk’s still a little lost.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to face Junhong.” Yongguk murmurs. His voice doesn’t sound like his own, it’s unfamiliar. Junhong has only lived five years but he’s frightening as he is to Yongguk. He’s got so much, so much waiting for him, and Yongguk isn’t sure he’s capable of being by his side for all the things he deserved.

Himchan sighs and stands beside Yongguk. Yongguk feels their shoulders brushing, and once he used to hate Himchan being so close to him, but he’s the closest friend Yongguk can ever have now, and he’s the closest to family besides Junhong after he lost his own.

“I talked to him. I think he heard you from the slide.”

Yongguk feels his heart dropping because he said he’s dying, and he wants to kill himself but Junhong isn’t supposed to know all that. He’s also a fool and Junhong isn’t supposed to live with someone like him.

“You’re underestimating a five year old.”

Yongguk scoffs slightly. No. He’s terribly scared of Junhong. He’s scared of the way Junhong closes his eyes tightly when he’s toenails are clipped and his small hands over his own face. He’s scared of the way Junhong holds him while sleeping because even the boy is frightened that he will be abandoned again. He’s scared of the pale alabaster skin he got from his mother, the long little eyelashes, the smile he never inherited from Yongguk because Yongguk doesn’t smile.

“I think he’s stronger than you’re giving him credit for, Bbang. He’s tough and he knows things too.”

A bitter smile tugs at Yongguk’s lips.

“If it’s not because of you then I don’t know where he got it from.”

Himchan places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Yongguk folds the drawing again neatly, the creases now permanent marks. The drawing’s finished. There’s nothing more to be added.

“I’m leaving.” Himchan says. “Go and talk to him.”

Yongguk looks at him doubtfully, and Himchan gives him an assuring smile. It’s something that has always got him a little surer, a little more courage.

“Thank you, Himchan.”

If Himchan hasn’t been so in time for Junhong Yongguk would probably still be lost and Junhong would probably be crying on his own in the slide, in the empty playground under the dark starry sky.

Himchan always comes in the nick of time, always did and if Yongguk’s slow he’s one to pull Yongguk along with him.

And when Himchan gets married, has his own family, his own son to attend to maybe, Yongguk will be running alone, trying to catch up on everything that leaves.

It’s a horrifying prospect when he thinks about it, for Junhong too.

Because unlike Yongguk, Himchan’s always on time for Junhong.

“Will always have your back.” Himchan’s hand slips off his shoulder and closes to a fist. He punches the other’s arm gently, smiling, a dimple on one cheek.

Yongguk smiles back, and it’s strained but it’s genuine thankfulness.

Himchan leaves. Yongguk watches him walk away, preparing himself. Himchan left but he’s going to come back.

Yongguk enters the small home, and Junhong’s on the floor playing with his pokemon silently. His small lips are a pout and Yongguk’s sorry.

“Junnie.”

Junhong doesn’t answer and Yongguk sits on his knees beside Junhong on the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

He lowers his head, his own fingers intertwined on his lap. A five year old isn’t supposed to live like this. Yongguk remembers he was once five and he wasn’t like this. He lived a happy life, with good parents. Things weren’t especially easy, but he knows Junhong could have had something so much better.

Junhong puts down his stuffed toy and looks at Yongguk. Yongguk stares at him and Junhong’s eyes are glassing over, so quickly like how a star twinkle and his lips tremble.

“Is Daddy going to leave me?”

Yongguk feels his forehead creasing, and he’s frowning so hard it hurts. He shakes his head. Words are unable to come out. He’s afraid if he says no he’s going to break down again and all Junhong need is for him to be strong.

Junhong cries instead. Pulls himself onto Yongguk’s lap and wrapping his arms tightly like he would never let go. He sobs wholeheartedly against his father’s chest, tears squeezing out of his small, little round eyes so painfully.

“Please don’t leave.” His voice cracks and he’s crying even louder. “Please don’t be unhappy, Daddy.”

Yongguk embraces his own son and hides his face into the messy, dishevelled black hair. He’s rocking on the floor because Junhong’s shaking, and pulling on his shirt.

There’s a tear that rolls down Yongguk’s cheek and he aches.

“I’m not leaving you, Junhong.”

He thinks of the parents in the old house he once lived in. Ones who never had the thought to leave him. Thinks of the woman who left them behind. And the little words he uttered to himself because he needed to stay strong or else they might just not survive.

“It’s just you and me now. You and me against the world.”

Funny how when he felt so utterly alone because he lost Junhong’s mother someone else came and rescued them.

“Please don’t stay unhappy.”

“I won’t.”

When Himchan gets married, maybe they would drift apart, it seems to be absolutely natural it would be so.

But it’s him and Junhong against the world in the first place.

“Promise?”

Junhong pulls away, his tiny face streaked with tears Yongguk smiles bitterly.

Because the waterworks stopped.

He intertwines their pinkies and they fit so well.

Junhong’s mother left, and the ceiling’s leaking. But if Yongguk keeps on moving forward along with Junhong despite how slow he can be, they’ll be just fine.

They’re going to be okay.

 

 

“Where are we going?” Junhong asks, his eyes blinking repeatedly when Yongguk pulls a beanie over his head in the cold weather.

“Well, where we’re going is a very important place for me, Junhong.” Yongguk says, smiling softly at his son. He’s squatting to be on the same level and Junhong looks at him with curious eyes.

“Is it a fun place?”

Yongguk chuckles, standing up and offering a hand to Junhong.

“It is. The people who live there are also important to me. And also to you.”

Junhong’s small hand fits in his palm. He holds it firmly.

“Who are they?” Junhong asks, always full of questions.

Yongguk takes a deep breath, looking down at the buildings from the third floor of the apartment building. The sky’s a little orange but it’s pretty and the weather’s chilly. Junhong’s huddled in his coat and had squealed in the bath because it was really cold.

“Your grandparents.”

He looks down at Junhong and Junhong’s mouth is wide opened.

“But it’s not thanksgiving, Daddy.”

Yongguk laughs a little, and shakes his head. “Not Himchan’s parents. Daddy’s parents.”

Junhong gasps a little. He’s speechless and Yongguk can only imagine all the questions bursting in his mind as he sways their intertwined hands a little as a sign to go.

Junhong walks slowly by his side and Yongguk’s finally a little hopeful after so much.

The door from home is painted in peeling pink and creaks a little when opened. The corridor from home is facing the sun, and it’s warm and bright.

In getting left behind Yongguk realizes it’s hard to move forward by himself. But when there’s Junhong there’s always a little hand that leads the way, down the stairs and into the open world where there are things that are against them. And having things against them is just a proof for the people who will be there for them despite everything.

In moving forward it’s going back to the things you left behind because it was a mistake. And then realizing it happens for a reason.

It’s Yongguk and Junhong against the world.

With a little help from a friend, and a little hope for a new start from Yongguk’s very own beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments? pls  
> i  
> need  
> it  
> to  
> live  
> seriously


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